The vaccine is coming. The news says spring — healthcare workers first, then elderly, then everyone. Mamma will be in the early group (ninety years old, the very definition of priority). Sophie is already vaccinated (healthcare worker, COVID ward — she got her first shot in December).
The vaccine means: the world opens. The vaccine means: I can hug Mamma without a porch between us. The vaccine means: the Damiano Center at full capacity. The vaccine means: church without masks. The vaccine means: the isolation that has been my companion since Paul died might, might, lift.
I'm cautiously hopeful. The caution is the nurse in me (vaccines take time, distribution is complicated, the virus mutates). The hope is the human in me (please, please let the world open again, let me sit at Mamma's kitchen table and eat her meatballs and not worry about killing her with my breath).
The cooking continues. This week from the 1923 book: kroppkakor — the potato dumplings filled with pork. The same dumplings I've made for years, but the 1923 version uses slightly different proportions and the result is denser, heavier, more authentically "immigrant food" — the food of women who needed calories to survive and who didn't apologize for starch.
I ate four. Paul would have eaten two. The dumplings are for stomachs that need filling and hearts that need warmth and the filling and the warming are the same act.
Peter called on Wednesday. Seventeen months sober. He said he's dating someone — a woman named Janet, a social worker in Evanston. He said, "She's tough, Mom. She doesn't take my nonsense." I said, "Good. You have a lot of nonsense." He laughed. The laugh of a man who is finding his way. The laugh that I've been waiting to hear for four years.
I said, "Does she cook?" He said, "She bakes. Banana bread." I said, "Bring her to Duluth. I'll teach her meatballs." He said, "Mom, we've been on three dates." I said, "The meatball invitation stands regardless."
The meatball invitation. Always open. For everyone. Come to the kitchen. I'll teach you. The thread extends to whoever shows up.
I made a January dinner: macaroni and cheese. Paul's comfort food. The béchamel with sharp cheddar. The breadcrumb topping. The meal that is purely American and purely Paul and that I make now for myself because the taste of the mac and cheese is the taste of Paul's happiness and the happiness lives in the cheese.
The happiness lives in the cheese. I'll take it wherever it lives.
The mac and cheese I made for Paul was always about the sharp cheddar — that particular bite of flavor that meant warmth and safety and him. This Cheddar Chicken Spaghetti carries the same spirit: a creamy, cheese-forward casserole that fills the kitchen with exactly the kind of smell that makes a cold January feel survivable. It isn’t Paul’s exact recipe, but it holds the same truth — that happiness, when you can’t hold the person who made you feel it, sometimes lives in the cheese. I’ll take it wherever it lives.
Cheddar Chicken Spaghetti
Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 40 min | Total Time: 1 hr | Servings: 8
Ingredients
- 12 oz spaghetti, broken into thirds
- 3 cups cooked chicken, shredded or diced
- 2 cups sharp cheddar cheese, shredded (divided)
- 1 can (10.5 oz) cream of mushroom soup
- 1 can (10.5 oz) cream of chicken soup
- 1 cup sour cream
- 1/2 cup chicken broth
- 1 medium yellow onion, finely diced
- 1 green bell pepper, finely diced
- 2 cloves garlic, minced
- 2 tablespoons unsalted butter
- 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
- 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
- 1/4 teaspoon paprika
Instructions
- Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 350°F. Grease a 9x13-inch baking dish and set aside.
- Cook the pasta. Boil the broken spaghetti in well-salted water according to package directions until just al dente. Drain and set aside — it will continue cooking in the oven.
- Sauté the vegetables. Melt butter in a skillet over medium heat. Add the onion and bell pepper and cook for 5–6 minutes until softened. Add the garlic and cook one minute more.
- Make the sauce. In a large mixing bowl, stir together both cans of soup, the sour cream, chicken broth, salt, pepper, and paprika until smooth. Fold in the sautéed vegetables and 1 1/2 cups of the shredded cheddar.
- Combine. Add the cooked spaghetti and shredded chicken to the bowl and stir until everything is evenly coated in the sauce.
- Assemble and top. Transfer the mixture to the prepared baking dish. Spread evenly and sprinkle the remaining 1/2 cup of cheddar over the top.
- Bake. Bake uncovered for 35–40 minutes, until bubbling around the edges and golden on top. Let rest 5 minutes before serving.
Nutrition (per serving)
Calories: 480 | Protein: 30g | Fat: 21g | Carbs: 42g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 720mg
About the cook who shared this
Linda Johansson
Week 250 of Linda’s 30-year story
· Duluth, Minnesota
Linda is a sixty-three-year-old retired nurse from Duluth, Minnesota, living alone in the house where she raised her children and said goodbye to her husband. She lost Paul to ALS in 2020 after two years of watching the kindest man she'd ever known lose everything but his dignity. She cooks Scandinavian comfort food and Minnesota hotdish and the pot roast Paul loved, and she sets two places at the table out of habit because it makes her feel less alone. Every recipe she writes is a person she's loved.